No Angels
by polsons
Summary: During a battle at the Ministry, Hermione falls through the Veil. She's fighting for her life, to find her way home and to reverse the damage done by her death. What she didn't count on was falling in more ways than one. Time Travel AU.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or the lyrics used at the top of every chapter.

AN/ Thank you for choosing to read this! Done for a friend who loves the pairing but wanted a story involving them that wasn't a oneshot. Rated M for occasional foul language, and 'adult' themes. There will be warnings on chapters for certain events. OK, now that's sorted - read on :)

* * *

Are you running from something?  
Or did you come from nothing?  
Are you testing the Lord,  
With the cards that you've been dealt?  
- _New York City, _Among Savages

Hermione's shoes scuffed lightly across the ground, inaudible over the noise of spells clashing against walls and bodies. There were grunts and yells, the walls flashing brightly with the echoes of spells. She stepped out of the doorway and was confronted by a figure in a cape with a silver mask. The spell erupted from the tip of her wand before they had time to react, sending the figure spinning backward. Hermione moved to the middle of the room as the cloaked figure ran along the walls.

Hermione let spell after spell fly from her wand, aiming for the swirling clouds of black that blended into the dark tiles lining the floors and walls of the Death Chamber. Fine sprays of blood flew as spells connected, the spatters marring the surface. She barely had a moment to register she'd been hit when the pain ripped through her shoulder, sending her falling to her knees. The cloaked figure threw her mask aside and Bellatrix's boot hit her in the face, breaking her nose and knocking her backwards.

Hermione's hands scrambled for purchase, gripping the edge of the Dias. The last thing she wanted was to go flying through the Veil. That would be two people lost because of Bellatrix, and Hermione wouldn't allow that. Lights bloomed in front of her eyes as Bellatrix kicked her again, her maniacal laugh setting Hermione's teeth on edge.

People began to scream and Bellatrix laughed louder. Hermione's head was aching so badly that it took her a moment to realise the sound was coming from the veil. Bellatrix hauled her up by her collar, planted a bruising kiss on Hermione's lips, and shoved her toward the swirling black curtain.

Sirius Black had passed through the veil like the curtain was water. Hermione Granger's back collided with what felt like a solid brick wall, the darkness taking her blood as payment. She hit the ground, her knees crunching painfully. She could see, through her one unbruised eye, Bellatrix's boot in front of her face.

"Hermione!" Ron bellowed as he and Harry ran in. "Hermione, hold on!"

Hermione gritted her teeth and rose up, Bellatrix's fist flying into her nose.

"Muggle way for a dirty mudblood!" she cackled, and Hermione saw black spreading from the edges of her vision.

When Bellatrix struck again, Hermione sailed through the veil, the darkness swallowing her whole.

* * *

The Marauders trekked through the ankle biting snow, mumbling as they went. Sirius was talking to James about the girls on his 'list' while Remus rolled his eyes and walked ahead by a couple paces. Whenever James and Sirius got talking about girls, it was better if Remus pretended like he couldn't hear. Not that he didn't like girls, per say, but he didn't really like the way that Sirius talked about them. He refused to think about the reason for that too much.

He stopped, sniffing the air lightly, cocking his head to the side and listening. It was almost like…

"Do you hear that?" he asked, brows furrowing.

"What?" James and Sirius asked in unison.

"Professor!" he called and McGonagall broke away from a group of teachers outside the Hogshead, walking over. "You need to follow me. I think someone's been hurt."

Remus followed the noise and his nose, the scent of blood heavy on the clean winter air. The boys dutifully followed him and McGonagall until they hit the alley. James gave Sirius a questioning look. Sirius shrugged. It was probably Moony leading them to another half dead homeless man. Wizarding Winters weren't the kindest to those without wands.

They rounded to corner in time to see a girl fly through a solid brick wall and land on the ground in a heap.

The snow turned scarlet with the blood running from the cuts on her pale skin, tracing red ribbons down her arm from a deep shoulder wound. Her nose was broken, the skin swollen and bruising, blood running down her chin. Her lip was split and there were bruises along her jaw and eyes. It was hard for them to see if she was injured anywhere else. There was so much blood.

McGonagall raised her wand and fired off a flare, the light growing bright red as it burst into the shape of a cross. Madame Pomfrey apparated straight into the alley, pushing past the boys and swearing softly. She and McGonagall set to work while Sirius put his arm around Remus's shoulder, steering him away from the blood. He knew it was too close to the full moon for Remus to be comfortable around that much blood.

"Is she dead?" he asked, skin pale and voice dull. "Is she?"

"No," McGonagall called, pulling something out of her pocket. "But only because you found her, Mister Lupin. She very well could have been if we hadn't gotten to her so soon. I need you three to take this portkey back to the castle and tell Professor Dumbledore to meet us at the Hospital Wing. Can you do that?"

James nodded, and they managed to get their hands to grip the portkey before they were taken away. McGonagall breathed a sigh of relief. All that blood was not good for any student to see, although they were in their final year and she knew they were shortlisted for the Order. Regardless, her maternal instincts kicked in around any of her students.

"Miss, are you conscious?" she asked when Poppy gave the okay. "We need you to be conscious for a moment, if you can stay awake."

"I can," the girl croaked, her eyes fluttering open a moment. They widened when she saw who was sitting in front of her. "Can you tell me what year it is?"

McGonagall met Poppy's eyes and the healer shrugged, pulling the portkey out of her coat pocket, wrapping the ribbon around the girl's wrist, her own and McGonagall's. They had a total of five seconds to wait, so Poppy lifted the patient into her arms.

"We're going to portkey you to the Hospital Wing of Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry, do you understand?" McGonagall asked, her tone soothing. The girl, however, was having none of it.

"What year is it?" she asked doggedly, even when pain crossed her face at the effort of speaking.

"It's November 1977," McGonagall replied, and they were pulled from the alley.

Their feet touched the ground in the Hospital Wing just as Dumbledore walked through the doors, levitating the girl to the nearest bed. She looked slightly dazed, brow furrowed as if she were deep in thought. McGonagall wondered how the girl was still conscious, let alone thinking. She seemed to make up her mind, a look of peace crossing her face.

Madame Pomfrey started to cut away the girl's clothes, hissing when she saw the full extent of her wounds. McGonagall turned when she heard a stifled gasp, seeing three quarters of the Marauders standing behind her. Dumbledore and Poppy were treating the girl, talking in hushed tones.

"You boys," she said curtly, "take a seat on the bed next to her. I don't think I'll be able to persuade you to leave, although if you cant handle it pull the curtain. I'll get you three something for the shock."

James nodded, his eyes fixed on the girl's face. How could anyone seem so calm when every inch of their body was covered in blood and bruising? She looked over to them, her brow furrowing again. She smiled, a slight curve of her lips that looked completely out of place. Sirius still had an arm around Remus, who was panicking slightly as he watched Dumbledore and Madame Pomfrey work.

"How bad is it?" she asked, looking away from the boys. "And don't soften the blow. No one else did."

Dumbledore chuckled despite himself. "Well, your shoulder was hit by a severing charm, you seem to have extensive bruising on your face, jaw, chest, and stomach, and we think you're bleeding internally."

"Is that all?" she asked, sounding completely unaffected. Dumbledore looked taken aback. "Would you set my nose, then? I'd hate for it to heal crooked."

He exchanged a look with Madame Pomfrey and nodded, tapping his wand to her nose. The crunch of bone made everyone flinch, including the girl, but she just smiled once it was done, wincing slightly with the pain.

"Thank you," she said, watching as Madame Pomfrey performed spells on her stomach. "I have two fractured ribs on my left side, I think. Other than that, everything feels like it's working."

"Did you give her an anaesthetic?" Dumbledore asked incredulously.

"No," Poppy laughed, staring down at the girl a moment before healing the broken ribs she'd mentioned. "She's just a fighter, I presume."

"Oh, I've been through much worse than this," the girl said cheerfully, her breathing becoming easier.

Dumbledore just shook his head, lips curved in an amused smile. "What's your name?"

"I'm…" she trailed off, seeming to think for a minute. "Hermione Wilkins," she finished, choosing the name she'd given her parents when she'd obliviated them and sent them to Australia.

"Well, Miss Wilkins," Dumbledore smiled, "my next question is how old you are, but that can wait until I introduce myself and the people around you. I'm Headmaster Albus Dumbledore of Hogwarts, the woman healing you is Madame Poppy Pomfrey, our school nurse, the three boys on the bed are seventh year students James Potter, Sirius Black, and Remus Lupin. The woman looking disapprovingly at them is Minerva McGonagall, transfiguration professor and head of Gryffindor house."

"Nice to meet you," Hermione said, taking a deep sip of the pain potion Madame Pomfrey handed to her. The potion chased the fog of pain from her head, making her sigh in relief. She almost smirked at the irony of the situation. Bellatrix had used the Cruciatus Curse on her twice in under an hour until she was close to breaking point, which was the only reason she was able to function under the circumstances. She was looking forward to sleeping though.

"Oh, I'm seventeen," Hermione replied, watching as Dumbledore's face grew shuttered and McGonagall flinched. She took it as her cue to bow out. "I'd really like to sleep for a while, though. Could we continue this later?"

Dumbledore nodded, and walked away, deep in thought. Hermione wondered what they'd do with her, if anything. Maybe they'd question her, force her full of veritaserum and demand answers? It didn't seem like they were viewing her as a threat, merely an unwelcome reality.

Hermione took the last sip of Dreamless Draught Madame Pomfrey gave her, set the goblet beside her bed, waved her wand and used a small spell to draw the curtain, and fell into a deep sleep with dreams that even magic couldn't chase away.

* * *

Light streamed through the tall windows lining the walls of the Hospital Wing. Hermione yawned and stretched, pain rippling through her body. She welcomed it. At least it was further proof that she was alive. She should be dead. She looked around her before pinching her arm. No, she was definitely alive, awake, and in 1977. That had been a shock, but not an entirely unwelcome one. It meant she could find her way back to her own time, whether it was by letting herself catch up or by finding a spell. Hermione resolved she'd find her way back and that she'd kill Bellatrix LeStrange.

Hermione was a pragmatist, self confessed and unrepentant. She was reality-steeped. She didn't daydream too often, despite living in a fantasy world. At the bottom of it, she dealt in logic, didn't she?

So how was it she'd come to be alive, even thought she'd flown through the veil? How was it she'd come to be alive in the 1970s? Hermione forced herself to relax. She'd find a way to get home. It_ would _be nice to… no. She wouldn't allow herself to think like that. It was all too tempting to just leave the war behind, to not think about blood, death, and scars, and to enjoy her final year. But the battle was still raging, and she'd died.

Dead, expired, departed, gone, lost, fallen, perished, slain, slaughtered, killed, murdered, six feet under, pushing up daisies, deceased, defunct. Hermione considered the words as tears burnt at her eyes. That was the reality, wasn't it? Falling through the veil, everyone know, was a death sentence, pure and simple. She was dead. But, she reminded herself forcibly, she'd been given a second chance. She'd use it.

"Knock-knock," Dumbledore called cheerfully, walking in and taking a seat next to her bed. "I have a few questions, Miss Wilkins, but first I need to let you know the staff and I have decided, with the urging of our Head Boy James Potter, to offer you a place at Hogwarts if there's no where else for you to do."

Hermione picked up her wand and cast a silencing charm. "I'd love to," Hermione said quietly, "but there are some things you need to know first. Yesterday, I was in a battle at the Department of Mysteries. I'm sure you understand the implications of this because, yesterday in 1977, there _was _no battle at the Department of Mysteries. I was hurt, obviously, and then I was pushed through the veil."

"You came here through the veil?" he asked, brow furrowed. Hermione nodded. "Then, Miss Wilkins, you must stay in Hogwarts. You're far too at risk elsewhere."

"I'll need full access to any books pertaining to time travel because I need to get home," Hermione replied, pleased they were on the same page. "If I cant get home within the year, I'll need a certificate saying I've completed seventh year so I can take that home with me. Is that alright?"

"Of course, Miss Wilkins," Dumbledore replied, the amused smile on his face back. "You seem rather calm about all of this."

"Would you rather be displaced in time or dead, Professor?" she asked curtly, and he nodded in understanding. "I have a chance to live, to go back and help my friends live through this war. Skills I learn here, I can take back there."

"You seem nonplussed about the amount of effort time travel takes," he commented, and it was Hermione's turn to smirk.

"I was given a time turner in third year to take all the classes I wanted to," she replied smoothly. "One of the conditions was that I knew how to behave, react, and what to do if I was severely displaced. I'm only telling you now because I was sworn to by, well, you."

"That certainly sounds like something I'd do," he chuckled, shaking his head. "You wont tell me anymore even if I ask, will you? Well, Miss Wilkins, after your sorting, which is extremely likely to be Gryffindor with the courage you displayed yesterday, we'll talk about your schedule."

"I used to be in Gryffindor," she said softly, a smile crossing her face. "I'd like to go back, if that's all right."

"Gryffindor it is," Dumbledore smiled wryly. "And your subjects?"

Hermione thought about it for a moment. "NEWT level Transfiguration, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Charms, Potions, and Arithmancy."

"Of course, Miss Wilkins," he laughed. "You might give our top students a run for their money."

"I could," she said, pausing before she shook her head. "But I wouldn't. I'll purposely be an above average student but then ace the NEWTs so that's all that shows up on my report. That way I'll be able to slip through fairly unnoticed."

Dumbledore nodded, agreeing. He was about to warn her off going for top spot, but the girl was obviously smart enough to take all the courses if she could grasp the importance of sacrificing pride in her work for a greater good. He stood to go, but her voice stopped him.

"Sir, why are you trusting me?"

It was a simple question, but one that gave him pause. Why did he trust her? "Because you asked me that," he replied, turning to face her. "I had a feeling I could trust you, but you went and asked anyway, which proves it right. Also, Miss Wilkins, you should probably alter your appearance slightly. I'd hate for anyone in this time to recognise you in the future."

Hermione blinked and then smiled. "Thank you, Professor."

He left and Madame Pomfrey walked in, handing her a mirror and starting to mix her pain potions. "It was dark last night," she said idly, "who knows if you had blonde or brown hair, whether it was curly or straight? You have free licence, my dear, so do what you'd like."

"I've never done anything to my appearance before," she admitted, surprising Madame Pomfrey. "I never dyed my hair, or even got it cut at a salon. It's a little daunting."

"You spoke with two fractured ribs and smiled while you were in absolute pain. I find it hard to believe anything could daunt you," she smirked as Hermione drank the potions. "But if you want, I'll help you."

"Go for it," Hermione smiled, warmth radiating through her body as the potions chased the last of the pain away. "And thank you. For the potions, for the offer, for everything."

"Dear, I'm only twenty-five," Madame Pomfrey smiled, ruffling the girls hair. "I understand what it's like to go to a new place and know no one. It's scary and even more so when you've been through what you have. If there's anything I can do to help, I'd be happy to."

"Can I be your apprentice?" Hermione asked suddenly. "You don't have to say yes, I'd just –"

"Of course you can, Hermione," Madame Pomfrey grinned. "But only if you call me Poppy."

"I think I can do that," she smiled back. Before Hermione could thank her, Madame Pomfrey, Poppy, threw her arms around her and gave her a warm hug.

"I think you needed that," Poppy smiled, her brown eyes warming as she stared down at Hermione. "And I think you need to sit still so I can get to work."


	2. Chapter 2

Counting all different ideas drifting away.  
Past and present, they don't matter,  
Now the future's sorted out.  
- _1901, _Phoenix

Hermione paced in front of the doors to the Great Hall. She was about to be sorted in front of the whole school during dinner in the middle of term. Now, she was nervous. She'd already been sorted privately so they could make a schedule for all her classes, but the teachers had felt it would be better if the school was able to witness it too. Hermione had agreed, purely because she saw the logic in that statement. Now, Dumbledore was at the Dias and Professor McGonagall was standing next to her.

Hermione was playing with her newly lightened hair, a soft honey brown rather than the dark colour she had naturally. She'd kept her eyes but lightened her eyebrows to match her hair. Her hair touched her shoulder blades, the curls now completely frizz free, her bushy hair sleeker and prettier. Poppy had pinned it off her face with plain gold bobby pins so it sat tucked behind her ears. Hermione felt like a Beauxbatons girl rather than her mousy self. It helped alleviate a little of the nervousness.

"Don't worry, Miss Wilkins," McGonagall smiled encouragingly, patting Hermione's arm when she stopped to stand next to her. "Gryffindor is a welcoming house. I'm sure you'll all get on splendidly, especially with Miss Evans. You're in all of her classes and those three boys have been asking about you non stop."

"Was that meant to be reassuring?" Hermione laughed, and McGonagall shrugged.

"Watch out for Mister Black, Miss Wilkins," she warned, and Hermione stifled a nervous giggle. "He's an unrepentant lothario, but he's a good friend to have. And don't mind the Slytherins, no matter what they say."

Hermione smiled then, feeling at ease. McGonagall had always been motherly to the students in her house, and it was comforting to her now. The doors swung open and they walked down, Hermione's smile staying in place. Every one turned to look at her, whispers stopping as she and McGonagall made their way to the front of the hall. Hermione thanked every lucky star she had that she didn't trip. When she sat down, smile rigid in place, the hat was placed on her head.

The Hat paused, Hermione could hear it laughing. It laughed at the way the students were staring as if a unicorn had walked in. Although the Hat thought she was smart and kind, even it thought the attention was ridiculous. _Get ready, _it thought to her. "Gryffindor!" it cried.

The Gryffindor table screamed and hooted, the cheers ridiculously loud. Slytherin went from disappointed to contemptuous in a split second, managing to make their applause sound condescending. Ravenclaw looked like they were analysing her worth and possibly her waist and bust measurements while Hufflepuff looked slightly upset, but were cheering as loudly as Gryffindor. It was good to know basic house rules hadn't changed in twenty years.

Hermione walked down, legs shaking slightly, and took a seat next to Lily Evans, who had been waving at her. She slipped onto the bench and Lily held out her hand.

"I'm Lily Evans, Head Girl, and girlfriend of Head Boy, James Potter, who you've already met," Lily grinned and Hermione shook her hand. "You've met Sirius and Remus, but that's Peter Pettigrew and Amelia Bones."

Hermione smiled and nodded to each of them, who were looking at her with obvious interest. Amelia, funnily enough, looked incredibly like her niece Susan. Hermione remembered that Amelia was killed in the first war. Susan had told her that while they were practicing their corporeal patronus charms during the DA. She'd been so proud of her aunty, and wanted to be just like her.

"You look better," James commented, slipping his arm around Lily's waist. "You looked like hell when we first saw you."

"Well, I'd just gotten back," Hermione replied, picking up a bread roll and buttering it.

Sirius and Amelia burst out laughing while the others cracked smiles. "You've got a sense of humour," Amelia grinned. "That's good. You'll fit right in with this lot, and you're all right with me."

"What subjects are you doing, Hermione?" Lily asked, smiling encouragingly.

"Transfiguration, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Charms, Potions, and Arithmancy," they looked unimpressed until she finished her sentence with, "All NEWT levels."

"Merlin's beard!" Sirius cried, eyes bugging. "That's the same as Lily! What are you trying for, Auror?"

Hermione tried to hide her flinch. Just two days ago Harry had been telling her about how much he wanted to be an Auror.

"No, I'd be horrible at it," Hermione said, thankful no one picked up on the pause. "I'd let my emotions get in the way, which isn't what a law enforcement agent should do. I'm more of an academic, actually."

"Ugh," Sirius crinkled his nose. "You're one of them."

"One of who?" Hermione asked as Lily and Remus yelled, "Sirius!"

"A do gooder, by the book, constant studier, that's who," Sirius scoffed.

"Well, yes, I am, but I also turned my friends hair bright green for a week with a potion, charmed a piece of parchment a group of us signed our names on to tattoo 'sneak' in bright purple on a traitor's forehead using a charm, and transfigured a boys nose into a pigs snout when he made fun of my best friend, and I smacked someone across the face for being an arse and got _thanked _for it by my teachers," Hermione replied with a sweet smile. "Interest in academia is only one part of a personality, Mister Black."

"Merlin, I think I'm in love," he sighed heavily. "You're alright, Wilkins."

"Call me Hermione," she replied smoothly. "And thanks, Black, for an 'unrepentant lothario' you aren't half bad either."

Everyone around her burst out laughing. She smiled and started picking at her roll. No one had noticed she wasn't eating yet, which was good. Conversation began to flow normally, and Hermione was included as much as possible. They thought she was nice, she made jokes every now and then, and she learnt a lot.

"Who are you rooming with, Hermione?" Amelia asked suddenly.

"Private rooms," Hermione answered evenly. "Dumbledore was really nice in offering me that."

"Wow, how'd you swing that? Who's your portrait?" Amelia's eyebrows were raised in obvious surprise and Hermione grinned.

"Gwendolyn of Galaxias," Hermione replied. "She's absolutely fascinating. I learnt about her in Astronomy. I hope I don't geek out when I actually get to meet her."

"What's so special about her?" Remus asked, brows furrowing. "I cant remember her from Astronomy."

Hermione blushed slightly. "Maybe I snuck into the restricted section to read about her. She figured out equations relating to Arithmancy to theoretically decode galactic noise."

"What's that?" Lily asked, both Remus and her leaning forward, interested.

"An unidentified radio-frequency radiation coming from beyond our solar system," Hermione explained excitedly. "She basically found a way to decipher whatever message, if there is one, is coming from other planetary systems."

"Oh my God!" Lily exclaimed. "What were the results?"

"Her equation was destroyed," Hermione replied, wincing slightly, "and she obliviated herself so she couldn't remember it. She then burnt down her workstations and every scrap of evidence she ever collected."

"Doesn't that make it sound like there was something bad out there, something so disturbing that she couldn't bear to know?" Amelia asked. "Doesn't that prove –"

"Not always," Hermione interrupted. "It was the 1800s. People weren't as open minded as we are now. It could have been anything. It could have been nothing. It could have been the basis our genetic make up, the reasons our universe is as it is, or even something about God. Who knows? Guessing wont help, it will only drive us mad."

"Do you ever think about trying to recreate her equation, if you're an academic?" James asked, and for the first time Hermione realised the whole group had been listening, not just the few she thought she was talking to.

"If one of the greatest minds of all time thought it was worth destroying, that we shouldn't know, if she _destroyed a part of herself_ to keep that secret safe, then I say we respect that," Hermione answered. "Its fine to be curious, but there are some things I say we're better off not knowing."

"That's really wise," Lily said softly. "But does it only apply to scientific theories or others?"

It was subtle and well placed, Hermione had to give her that. The question opened up the vague reference to blood purity. If you were a supremacist, you'd come out and say that there were things that didn't need proving, like the purebloods being above others.

"I assume you're talking about blood purity," Hermione tucked a stray curl behind her ear as she figured out how to phrase her thoughts. "I told you about that boy I slapped, right? He was a pureblood and he bled bright red. The colour was disgusting and terrifyingly real. Some of it got in my mouth. Before I spat it out, I realised that it tasted metallic, just like mine. When I was injured, my blood was the exact same colour. It even tasted the same. I don't believe your parents make any difference to your magical aptitude. After all, if purebloods are so superior, how come they produce squibs?"

Lily smiled widely at her, the expression lighting up her face. "That was the first question I asked. Luckily, I asked the right people, these people, who didn't have answers and who didn't mind questions."

"Honestly, I think the muggles got it right with the theory of evolution," Hermione shook her head. "Wizards might be a step above muggles with our magic, but muggles have to make up for lack of magic with science and their imaginations, often leading them to make advancements before us. We're merely the next step in the evolutionary cycle. Just because generations of wizards are born with the same genetic markers, that doesn't make them better. It would be like saying every green eyed person is better than the rest of the population purely because of the statistical improbability and minority of people with the eye colour."

"Merlin," Sirius breathed a laugh. "That's bloody brilliant. You ever tell that to a pureblood before?"

"Usually they're too busy trying to hex me into oblivion, but maybe one day I'll lecture a hall of convicted death eaters in Azkaban on my theories," Hermione grinned wickedly. "It'd be a much more effective torture than anything else, don't you think?"

"I think you're all right, Hermione," Sirius replied, a slow smile spreading across his face. "Can you apply that knowledge to pranks?"

"I think I could find a way," she nodded seriously. "But first, I need someone to show me to the Library. I have some research to do."

"I'll take you," Remus offered, gesturing to his empty plate. "I need to stop and get a book for my potions homework anyway. You ready to go now?"

Hermione nodded, standing. "I hope I didn't bore you guys with my theories. My friends used to tease me about how I'd ramble on. I just think its fascinating and, well, important."

"They're two great ideas," James said, answering for all of them. "Plus, they're more interesting that most of the topics in our NEWT levels. It was great, seriously."

Hermione beamed, her smile radiant. "It was lovely to meet you all, especially now that I'm all healed and three of you aren't in shock."

The group watched them go, Remus already talking excitedly about the uses of Asphodel he'd been researching for his homework. Hermione genuinely looked interested and was responding, which surprised all of them. Usually Remus had to keep his observations to himself since he was coming first by a fifteen point margin in potions and usually over researched.

"She's brilliant, isn't she?" Amelia asked, shaking her head. "I thought you were kidding when you told us about the hospital wing, but I can see how that girl could have done that. She's a good ally to have."

"And I think she'll be an even better friend," Lily added. "I mean, she completely understood that really subtle question on blood purity and she answered without hesitation. If we were supremacists or death eaters, that could have gotten her killed."

"She's obviously very loyal and solid in her beliefs," Sirius mused, rubbing his jaw slightly. "You cant fake that level of conviction. She had that look on her face the whole time she was talking, the look that tells you she knew what she was saying to be true."

"Anyone else a little scared of her?" Peter squeaked. "It's like she was looking right through me, like she saw my soul!"

The group laughed and Sirius leaned over to ruffle his hair. "Don't worry, Pete, I'm sure she'll love you as much as we do."

"Yeah," he brightened, digging into his roll. "You're probably right."

* * *

Hermione left the library at a quarter to eleven. One of the perks of not living in the dorms and having a letter from Dumbledore allowing her access to restricted books meant that Madame Pince didn't care how long Hermione was in the library. Being a seventh year student, her curfew was eleven at night, a late enough hour.

She rounded the corner on her way back to Gryffindor tower and dropped all the rolls of parchment in her arms. The scattered across the floor and Hermione swore under her breath. She knelt down, tucking the scrolls back into her bag rather than keeping them in her arms. It was only because she was kneeling that Lily Evans overlooked her and walked straight past. It was only because she was straightening up to keep walking that she saw two of Snape's gang, Rosier and Avery, following her.

Hermione tucked her bag in an alcove near the library and cast a disillusionment charm over it as well as an anti-intruder line around it that would confound anyone who reached for it. Then, she turned and ran. She was there in time to see Rosier hit Lily in the back with a well aimed _Petrificus Totalus_.

"For a mudblood, she has great legs," Avery commented, leaning down to trail his fingers down the exposed skin.

"Help!" Hermione screamed from the end of the hall.

They both turned and Hermione ran. Rosier and Avery chased after her, like she wanted. When she heard Avery, she saw red. If she didn't get them away from Lily, she would likely knock them out and then break all of their ribs one by one while they lay petrified, unable to raise a finger to stop her.

Hermione skidded around the corner of a corridor and launched herself over the railing of a staircase half way through moving. She landed perfectly and continued to run, the sounds of people yelling still behind her. Hermione turned and pressed herself against the wall, catching Rosier in the forehead with a _confundus _charm when he followed. He fell, and when Avery rounded the corner she caught him as well.

They fell to the floor, stumbling to lean against the wall, and Hermione sighed. She moved around to where the staircase had stopped and walked up to kneel in front of them. They were awake, eyes open, but they were so confused they weren't moving. Hermione winced – she'd put too much force behind the spell.

Pointing her wand at a point between Rosier's eyes, she whispered, "_obliviate." _She did the same for Avery. They looked at her blankly and she furrowed her brows. "Are you two all right?" she asked, faking concern. "You two ran the corner and slipped down a set of stairs. Do you need help?" They looked at each other before shaking their heads in a no, wondering why they weren't where they remembered they'd been. She straightened up, waved, and walked away.

Hermione rounded the corner and took a deep breath. She relaxed, leaning against the wall, hand pressed to her heart. That wasn't what she'd expected when she'd seen two bullies going down the hall after Lily Evans. She turned and ran back to Lily, skidding on her knees to kneel in front of her. Tears were trickling down Lily's face.

"Hey, Lily, it's Hermione," Hermione said softly, moving into view so she could see her. "I'm going to get you some help now, okay? I'm going to get James."

When Lily started crying harder, Hermione put her hand on her arm. "I'm not leaving you," she said softly, helping Lily up into a sitting position, propping her against the wall. She'd learnt with Ron that while the cursed couldn't move their own body except for their eyes and lungs, they could be moved by others.

"_Expecto Patronum!" _Hermione called, the bright otter swirling out of her wand and dancing happily around her legs. "Get James Potter. Lily's hurt, she's on the fourth floor."

The otter bounded through the air, wispy silver trail misting into the air to glow like fine stars before disappearing. Hermione went back to kneel next to Lily and held her hand.

"James will be here soon," she said softly. "You should know that I confounded Rosier and Avery and obliviated them. They don't remember anything, and they are so confused they cant even think straight. I couldn't prove they were after you, or why, but they wont come after you again. The experience will put fear in them every time they see you, because it will remind them a part of their minds was taken. They wont say anything because they're so terrified it will happen again. If they do, I'll be second in line behind James to break every bone in their body. That I can promise you."

Lily calmed down somewhere during Hermione's speech, fire returning to her eyes. James ran down the corridor, scrambling for purchase he rounded the corner so quickly. Hermione moved out of the way, standing. Lily was beginning to get movement back, and tears sprung to her eyes when she saw James rushing toward her. Her lips trembled, which just about undid James.

He reached Lily and pressed her against him, rocking her body against his. Her fingers began to twitch, and Hermione looked away. It was an intensely private moment, one she wasn't eager to witness.

"Lily will tell you everything that happened, including the people you can prank or torment or break the noses of if you want to get even. Madame Pomfrey wont ask questions if you take her to the Hospital Wing, but she's not injured, just scared. She'll have full movement within five to ten minutes."

"Thanks, Hermione," James said, eyes welling. "I cant thank you enough."

"You don't need to," Hermione replied, shrugging. "But I strongly suggest making patrols a buddy system from now on."

He nodded and Hermione walked away, curls bouncing cheerfully despite the events of the night. She picked up her bag from the alcove where she'd hidden it, slinging it across her shoulders. She turned to see a tall figure leaning against the wall opposite from where she was standing. He was staring right at her, silver eyes searching her face. Hermione stiffened but didn't react.

"I'm Regulus Black," he greeted, not moving from the wall. "I'm a Prefect. I was on my way to make sure that the Library was empty when I saw the strangest thing."

"Well, Regulus Black, Prefect," Hermione narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms. "I'm Hermione Wilkins, new student. Frankly, I want to get back to my room. If you want to talk, you better do it while you walk."

She turned on her heel and started down the corridor, nonverbally putting up a shield. No spell came, and instead she heard him follow her. He fell into step and she stopped the charm. They walked for a moment in silence, and then he started to talk.

"When I was on my way here, I saw a student jump the railings of a staircase and stick the landing perfectly. Imagine my surprise when the student then confounded two other students who seemed to be chasing her."

"That doesn't sound like much of a strange occurrence, that just sounds like self defense," Hermione looked at him, smirking when she saw his amused expression.

"The thing is, the student knelt in front of said chasers and cast a spell on them," Regulus continued calmly. "When she got up, they seemed to have no memory of why they were running after her. In fact, they seemed to think they'd tripped down the stairs."

"People have a hard time remembering anything when hit with a strong confundus charm," Hermione offered. "It's been proven in various research papers and studies."

"That's true," Regulus conceded, "but not what I was thinking. It seemed to me that these two students had been obliviated, a very strong charm that erases memories. Not many people our age can perform it, not without leaving a trace. Their memories have been erased so seamlessly it looks like natural."

"Then, hypothetically of course, doesn't that mean there's no evidence?" Hermione asked lightly. "And, again hypothetically, what gives you the idea the student would be strong enough in the first place? It's possible the affected students were just weak minded or unprepared when they were cursed."

"Hypothetically, I think I'd like to meet a student whose so proficient in restricted magic," Regulus countered. "I think, hypothetically of course, that they'd have some interesting reasons for why they did what they did."

They stopped a meter or so away from the portrait of the Fat Lady, both standing in her blind spot. Regulus smirked and Hermione had on a polite smile that curved her lips but left her eyes untouched.

"Well, Regulus Black, Prefect, I think that there were too many hypotheticals for me to make an assumption, assuming you ever asked me a question in the first place," Hermione held out her hand, which he took and shook. He had a surprisingly firm handshake, the mark of a confident man. Hermione filed that away for future reference.

"That's very smart, Hermione Wilkins, new student. I'll see you around."

Hermione watched until Regulus had rounded the corner and was out of earshot before she turned away, walking the few steps back to the portrait. The night had been much more interesting than she'd ever thought it would be. Tired, Hermione trudged up the stairs, already dreaming of her bed.


	3. Chapter 3

It may be different now but the pattern won't wash out,

Covers up our eyes, leaves us knots and severed ties,

We follow new lines.

_- Prehistoric, _Now, Now.

Hermione walked down the stairs to the common room, surprised when she saw Lily and James waiting for her. They smiled and waved, and Hermione smiled back, wondering what they were going to say, if anything. They started to walk down to breakfast, Hermione walking on Lily's side.

"Hermione, I wanted to thank you for last night," Lily said suddenly, and Hermione tried to tell her what she'd told James, that it was nothing and there were no thanks was necessary, but Lily wasn't having it. "No, you did something amazing for a person you'd just met at great personal risk to yourself. That's not nothing. And, well, it feels rude but I wanted you to… I wanted to ask if you'd teach us to cast a corporeal patronus."

Hermione blinked slowly, staring at them both. Lily and James looked slightly nervous, as if she'd turn them down. "Of course," Hermione said, before stopping dead in her tracks. "You haven't told anyone about last night, have you?"

"No one," they answered in unison. James continued, "It seemed like a shitty way to thank you for helping, especially when you seemed eager just to slip under the radar. For a girl in NEWT level classes, you're not boastful and you didn't mention your marks once. Everything you said last night reeked of someone who doesn't want to be noticed. I should know – it's the exact opposite of what I used to do."

"Thank you," Hermione smiled, shaking her head. "I can help with the patronus charm, no problem. Find us a training space out of the way, and then you can pass the knowledge on to others. I don't think my low profile will go well with teaching advanced spells."

"That's fair," Lily said. "Now onto the next order of business. Since today is a Friday, tomorrow is the first Quidditch match of the season, Gryffindor versus Hufflepuff. I don't know if you like Quidditch, but we're all going and I am here, on behalf of everyone, to demand you attend."

"No ifs, no buts, no maybes, you're coming," James concluded. "And not just because I'm captain."

Hermione laughed, the sound echoing down the corridor. "I wouldn't miss it."

Talk of the game completely eclipsed any talk of her, and Hermione thought she couldn't have timed dying any better. It was still slightly too soon to be making jokes about that, she thought, but it was definitely a perk. Her first day with Madame Pomfrey was on Sunday, so Hermione was planning on another night of research until curfew, which was extended until midnight in honour of the weekend.

Their first class was NEWT-level Potions so she and everyone but Peter walked over together. Hermione was lectured about how you should never ever let Slughorn coerce you into joining the Slug Club and how she was likely to be paired with a Slytherin, since they were the only ones without partners. She was then told, by Lily, that it wasn't so bad to be in the Slug Club, but James turned around and told her it really, really was.

By the time she reached class, Hermione was feeling incredibly homesick, but also like she was starting to fit in. Strange how rescuing a classmate and spouting theories could do that. At least this time she didn't have to nearly be brained by a troll.

Professor Horace Slughorn did not look any older than he had back in her time. It was almost remarkable how similar he looked. Only his stomach was smaller, but it was barely noticeable. He perked up when he saw her.

"Ah, you must be Miss Wilkins! Come, come, dear, get a textbook and some equipment," he had the same jovial tone that grated on every one of Hermione's nerves. "And you can take a seat next to our second best student, Mr Black. He's ahead one grade, did you know? Positively brilliant, that boy is."

Hermione turned, furrowing her brows at Sirius who shook his head and held both hands up. '_Not me'_ the gesture said, and Hermione turned to be face to face, or more accurately face to chest, with Regulus Black.

"Meeting again so soon," he said, raising an eyebrow. "One might say, hypothetically, you were chasing me."

"Hypothetically, one might be tempted to drop this copper cauldron on your foot," Hermione muttered, letting him lead her to their new table at the front of the class. "Actually, maybe one is hypothetically tempted to attempt to brain you with it."

"I think you'd have better luck using a pestle for that," he replied, a hint of amusement in his tone. "Hypothetically, of course."

"I don't think we can speak in hypotheticals anymore, it's getting ridiculous," she sighed, staring at the cauldron. "I'm guessing this is a group project that's going for the rest of the term."

"You guess well," he agreed. "We're making the Polyjuice Potion. You came at a good time. The Fluxweed was picked five days ago on the full moon and the lacewing flies have already been stewed."

Hermione couldn't help but smile. "And this is worth our final grade?" she asked him, cataloguing the ingredients on the table.

"Yes," he answered simply, staring at her. "Are you any good at potions?"

"I first brewed this potion when I was twelve years old," she told him carelessly. "It's not hard, it's just incredibly precise."

"It seems I've lucked out on my partner then," he said smoothly, adding three measures of Fluxweed to the cauldron. Hermione dropped in the knotgrass and Regulus started to stir, the movements precise.

"It seems like you're rather good at potions yourself," Hermione waved her wand over the potion and they were done for an hour. "What's the assignment to go with this?"

"An in-depth analysis of a potion and a hypothetical way to improve it as well as an experiment design for your chosen improvement," he said, pulling parchment from his bag. "What do you think you'll choose?"

"Dreamless Draught," Hermione replied, pulling out her own equipment, graciously provided by Dumbledore. "I already know what I'll add. And you?"

"Death-Cap Draught," he replied and Hermione snorted. "What's funny about that?"

"It's a poison," she smirked, shaking her head. "Are you making it more effective, more lethal, or permanently damaging?"

"It rots away your organs, I cant see what's more damaging than that," Regulus sounded genuinely confused as to what she meant. He was already sifting through his research, looking for clues to what she was alluding to.

"Ah, but it only rots your organs to a point causing considerable discomfort but for a healthy person with no previous issues with health and the damage is reversible with a general antidote," she explained, pointing to a point in his research where it mentioned the ingredients. "I'd add a touch of Acromantula Venom, but that's so rare its illogical. Instead, I'd add either a small portion Foxglove to weaken the heart or crushed Pomegranate Seeds to weaken the victims tie to reality."

Regulus just started at her, eyebrows raised. "I was going to add Bloodroot."

"Oh," Hermione replied, blushing scarlet. She wrote her question on her paper, all the while scolding herself for getting carried away. Just because she'd had playful banter with the boy didn't mean she was his friend, far from it.

"Has anyone told you you're terrifying?" he asked suddenly, and Hermione looked up, shaking her head. "Well, you are. Adding Foxglove to weaken the heart? Brilliant. You could do that and they would feel symptoms of heartburn rather than uniform pain. Not only would they be unlikely to get treatment or see a healer, but depending on the dose they would likely have a heart attack from significant stress on their other organs. And the Pomegranate Seeds? That's almost cruel, but since Death-Cap poisoning is cruel in its nature, that's… that's a brilliant idea."

Hermione felt like smacking herself.

"If you wanted, you could kill people in like that without anyone suspecting a poison. They'd cite heart failure or a mental break. No one would think to look for poisoning, not with the symptoms those additions would present," Regulus narrowed his eyes then, scrutinizing her. "What are you adding to the Dreamless Draught?"

"Peppermint and Poppy Heads," she replied smoothly, and he laughed. The whole class fell silent and Hermione could feel their classmates eyes on them. She got the feeling that Regulus Black didn't laugh too often, and definitely not at something a Gryffindor said.

"You're bloody brilliant," he told her when everyone had looked away. "Why don't you do a poison? You'd get full marks. You'd get high marks for the Peppermint and Poppy heads, but you'd be coming in third, if not lower, rather than tying with me and Evans for second or Snape and Lupin for first."

Hermione really hadn't ever felt more like slapping herself silly than she had in that moment.

"Because I don't want to be first," Hermione replied curtly. She turned away, back to her paper, and started to write. Regulus continued to watch her for a moment but he looked away, changing his added ingredient to Pomegranate Seeds like Hermione had suggested.

They worked in silence for the rest of the hour, time moving quickly while Hermione justified her two decisions, coming up with four double sided pages of parchment. When Harry had started having nightmares, Hermione had made the Dreamless Draught a couple times. After her first experience in the Malfoy House with Bellatrix, Hermione had brewed herself some. That's when she'd first discovered the added benefits of adding the Poppy Heads and Peppermint.

Poppy Heads, or Corn Poppy Heads, while not addictive like opium, which was derived from the sap of a subspecies of poppy native to Turkey, contained a substance called rhoeadine, which was both sleep inducing and pain relieving, sort of similar to the opium alkaloids found in morphine. The Corn Poppy Head was used, traditionally, to make a tea that would help. The brewing of the potion would add this property to the Poppy Heads by mimicking the brewing process of tea. The Peppermint both enhanced the taste and made it more soothing but also counteracted some of the side effects of continued use and diminished the addictiveness.

Hermione set the paper aside, knowing that it would get full marks anyway. Slughorn would find the whole thing fascinating, especially her reference to the alkaloids and opium. Sighing, Hermione couldn't bring herself to throw away her research or dodge the experimental procedure. It was solid work, and something she knew well.

"Regulus," she said suddenly, and he looked up from his paper. "How old are you?"

"Seventeen," he replied easily. "Why?"

Hermione's heart sunk and she struggled to find her voice. "I was just wondering. We're the same age, even though you're a year below."

He nodded and turned to the potion, adding in four leeches while Hermione added the necessary two scoops of lacewing flies to the mortar and crushed them to a fine powder. Regulus then added two measures of the crushed lacewings to the cauldron and heated the mixture on a low heat for exactly thirty seconds. Hermione waved her wand when the time was up and the first stage was complete. The next stage would wait until the next Thursday, he told her, and Hermione just nodded.

Regulus Black, Prefect, was also Regulus Black, Death Eater. Hermione remembered Sirius telling her that he took the mark when he was sixteen. She forced herself to calm down, to breathe normally, but she was starting to feel slightly faint. When she looked over, Regulus was writing, left forearm propping up his chin, sleeve sliding down to reveal the tip of his mark. It wasn't active so the ink wasn't black, but she could see the faint start of the pattern and she recognised it.

When the bell went, Hermione didn't bother saying goodbye. She shoved everything in her bag and ran for it. She heard a couple people call her name but she just waved and ran, barely making it to the girls bathrooms in the dungeons before she vomited, emptying everything in her stomach, which wasn't much to begin with. Feeling the beginnings of a full fledged panic attack, Hermione flushed the toilet and set out at a jog to the Hospital Wing.

* * *

"Hermione?" Madame Pomfrey's eyebrows furrowed inward in confusion. "Dear, what's wrong?"

"I can't breathe, I-" Hermione broke off, tears welling in her eyes. "I need a calming draught."

Poppy said nothing, getting the potion out and handing it straight to Hermione, who chugged it. She lead the shaking girl to the bed, helping her to sit down. She rubbed her back in slow circles as Hermione's breathing returned to normal.

"I'm sorry," Hermione said when she could speak. "I didn't mean to freak out, I just –"

"You don't need a reason to have a panic attack, Hermione," Poppy scolded. "They're illogical and horrible, but completely understandable from the state you were in a mere forty-eight hours ago. I hope you've been kind to yourself."

"I was forcibly reminded of an unpleasant reality that I haven't really acknowledged," Hermione admitted, shaking her head. "I just hate feeling weak. I was _never _the weak one, you know? I always used to support everyone else. Panic attacks take away my logic, my intelligence, and turn me into a puddle of scared mush. I cant afford that."

"I get it, Hermione, I truly do," Poppy assured her, concern etched in the woman's face. "But it takes time for the body to get over stressful situations."

"I just don't want to feel weak," she whispered, and Poppy nodded, continuing to rub soothing circles on the girl's back.

"I barely know you, Hermione, but trust me, you could never be weak."

* * *

Hermione sat in the library, all panic chased and smacked forcibly away. Her last class, Arithmancy, had been a welcome distraction. Lily had been worried, but after Hermione reassured her everything was fine she laid off, instead focusing on the work like Hermione needed to. At the end of the lesson though, she'd made sure to stress that Regulus hadn't done anything to her, he was a perfect gentlemen, only that she was still slightly shaky on her feet after all the pain potions and excitement of the past couple days.

Hermione finished the experimental plan for Potions an hour ago and was putting the finishing touches on her Arithmancy homework. Cleaning up and tucking the pages in her bag, she left the table, bag secure on her shoulder. She was cutting through the stacks to get to the Restricted Section when a hand shot out and caught her wrist.

She raised her foot and slammed down on her attacker's foot, causing them to shift their weight forward. She bought her knee up sharply, digging in under his ribs and twisting her wrist out of his grasp, smashing him on the back and sending him to the floor. It was only when the boy was on the floor and gasping for breath that she realised it was Regulus Black.

"Merlin, I'm so sorry," she knelt down next to him, an apologetic expression plastered across her face. "It was so quiet, I didn't expect – I'm so sorry."

Regulus chuckled, clutching his stomach. "It's fine," he wheezed. "I didn't mean to scare you."

"Why are you lurking?" she asked, sitting down cross-legged, leaning against the opposite bookshelf as he propped himself against the other.

"I was looking for you, to ask what happened in Potions," he said finally, looking slightly annoyed he had to admit it.

"Well, Regulus Black, Prefect, I think it's a little too early for such hard hitting truths," she smiled to soften the rejection and he nodded. "When was that potion homework due?"

"Monday," he replied, looking far more at ease with the new line of questioning. "Why, did you finish it already?"

"Of course," she scoffed. "I already brew that alteration of dreamless draught, so I know it works."

Hermione wanted to clasp her hands over her mouth. Why the hell was she telling him so much, giving him so much ammunition and information? He had a change of heart, she knew that, but he didn't. Right now he was likely a supremacist, pure and simple.

The only reason he didn't try to strangle her or destroy her dignity was because he assumed she was at least half blooded. It sobered her some and reminded her of what she'd lost. That she'd died at the hand of his cousin. But then again, he'd died because of his decisions too.

Hermione's head hurt.

"You were walking toward the restricted section," Regulus said, and Hermione put on a polite if slightly dim expression. "Don't act dumb, Hermione, we both know you aren't."

"Regulus," she said, voice cold. "You don't know me at all."

"That's true," he conceded, a lot more gracious than his brother. "But I think I might want to, despite your… unsavoury connections."

"Why?" Hermione asked before she could stop herself. "Why me?"

"You seem like you understand," he said after a moment. "You have this look that makes it seem like you've seen more than you're letting on. Its more than intelligence, maybe it's just compassion? I don't know, but I'd like to figure it out. Even if its just for scientific purposes."

"Like an experiment?" she laughed derisively. "You sure know how to woo the ladies."

"I leave that to my brother Sirius, your new friend," he replied curtly. "No, rather than experiment more like… friend."

"Have you ever been friends with a Gryffindor?" she asked, unable to draw the nerve to ask if he'd ever been friends with a muggle born.

There was no point telling him now, or ever. She wasn't ashamed, she knew that. She simply didn't want trouble; she just wanted to get home. The easiest way was to slip under everyone's radar. No one would pay her any mind if she was slightly smart Gryffindor friend of two of the smartest Gryffindors. She could hide, but only if she kept her pride under control. She'd always thought that was Ron's sin, but she had more than enough of her own.

"Not really," he told her with a look of faint amusement. "But I'd try, I think, for someone who can easily name two ways to make a poison more effective."

"I'm not a killer," she said quietly, so quietly he strained to hear her.

"I never said you were," he replied, voice equally soft.

They sat, not moving, for another moment before they both stood and walked in separate directions, neither of them saying anything more. Hermione's head was spinning like she'd walked into a washing machine, and she knew Regulus would be feeling the same way.

Shaking it off, Hermione ducked into the restricted section, grabbing the two unlocked books on time travel she needed and taking them to Madame Pince to borrow. She wasn't ready to be found in the library any time soon. Sighing, Hermione hefted her heavy bag and walked away, cold air sending her hair flying around her face.

She looked outside on her way, studying the familiar form and shape of Hogwarts, Hagrid's cabin, and the Forbidden Forest. It was so achingly familiar, but still so far from home. Turning away, Hermione continued to put one foot in front of the other, focusing on tomorrow.


	4. Chapter 4

There is no peace here  
War is never cheap dear  
Love will never meet here  
It just gets sold for parts

- _Beat the Devil's Tattoo, _Black Rebel Motorcycle Club

The next morning, Hermione woke up to see Lily and Amelia sitting on her couch, arguing passionately about Quidditch. She sat up, wondering why they were here so early on a Saturday until she remembered it was the first match of the year and it was a Gryffindor match, so they'd be excited. Hermione rubbed her eyes and got out of bed, the noise she made causing the two girls to turn.

"Hey, you're up!" Lily said brightly, a smile on her face. "We just came to call out but Gwendolyn told us to come in. I hope that's okay."

"I told her to let you in if you needed," Hermione yawned, running a brush through her hair before she started to braid it. "What does a girl wear to a Quidditch game?"

Dumbledore and Poppy had teamed up to get Hermione clothing, which she hadn't even thought of until a trunk appeared. Lily and Amelia exchanged a look before jumping over the couch and rummaging through the trunk.

"We are going to make you look so good!" Lily squealed. "Amelia wont let me dress her up like a human barbie doll and my sister gave up on that years ago."

"I wont let you dress me up because you're too conservative," Amelia snorted, flipping her hair over her shoulder.

"Everyone is conservative compared to you and Sirius," Lily countered easily, and Hermione's eyebrows rose.

"Amelia, are you and Sirius together?" she asked, running through her memories of third year and on. Lupin had said Sirius never had a steady girlfriend, but maybe she was wrong.

"Hell no," Amelia laughed, blue eyes twinkling. "We just help each other out occasionally. What's a little recreational sex between friends? It's the seventies, for Merlin's sake."

Lily blushed and Hermione laughed, taking the jeans and sweater Lily offered her, stepping inside the bathroom to pull them on. The red brought out the warmth in her skin and eyes while the tight blue jeans made her look like she had an arse. Pulling on woollen socks and her boots, Hermione went back to where Amelia and Lily were making tea in the kitchenette.

"Boy are so cute," Amelia continued with a smirk, "they cock their heads to the side and bite their lips. When they stretch you can see their stomach and that line of hair going to their belly button down to their crotch. Then they run their fingers through their hair and make it all messy on purpose and then when their hands are big enough they can pick you up and warm you and that makes me happy. That's why I get along with Sirius – he likes girls in the same way I like boys."

"That makes sense," Hermione said before grinning wickedly, unable to resist. "Is Sirius as good in bed as he looks?"

"Better," Amelia laughed, a dreamy look crossing her face. "_So _much better."

"Did you have a boy back home, Hermione?" Lily asked, smiling as she poured the tea and set it to steep. "I mean, you're pretty and funny and smart, everyone says so."

"I had someone I had a crush on," Hermione smiled, leaning against the opposite corner. "But we wouldn't work. We'd kiss when we were angry and I'd have bruised lips for days. He'd grip my wrist a little too hard when he was dragging me away from situations he deemed improper. But he was a part of me, still is in a way, I think. He helped save my life when I was eleven, and he was the first person I ever loved. But I'd rather fall in love than shatter."

Lily and Amelia looked at her with wide eyes. "That's intense," Amelia said, blinking slowly. "You guys must have been through a lot together."

"Every year since I was eleven we've had a near death experience," Hermione laughed, the smile warming her eyes. "I wouldn't change anything, though. But I do wish things could have worked out differently."

"I think James and I could have gone that way if we weren't both softer," Lily said quietly, not looking at either girl while she talked. "I mean, if he was more like Sirius, we'd clash like that. I'm lucky he loves me so much."

"He's lucky you love him so much," Hermione replied. "Remember, I saw you two together. When he saw you that night, it looked like his heart would explode he was so worried about you. You're literally his everything."

"I'm missing something," Amelia said slowly, shaking her head as she pulled out the teabags and set them on the sink. "But that's okay. I get bruising kisses, but usually its because I'm taking too much, not because of the intent behind it."

"I think I'm attracted to the difficult ones," Hermione shook her head, laughing at herself.

"Well, Hogwarts certainly has a lot of those," Lily smirked. "I see enough in the halls during patrol."

"Not that sort of difficult," Hermione protested, taking the tea Amelia offered her. "Just the kind that aren't always predictable, or what they seem on the surface. Its hard to know what to do so you cant manipulate or be manipulated. Everything's more exciting and a little more real."

"I get that with James," Lily smiled, a warm look crossing her face when she said his name. "I love him with all of my heart, and he loves me too."

"Ugh, so mushy," Amelia crinkled her nose. "Hermione, seen anyone you find attractive yet?"

The face of Regulus Black, Prefect, popped into her mind but Hermione just shook her head. That was one door she'd rather not open. Finding a death eater attractive wasn't new, some of them were, but she'd never… not with someone who would hate her so fully. That was a little too masochistic for her.

"Well, I know plenty of people find you good looking," Amelia continued, and Lily rolled her eyes. "What? It's true! I heard Edgar talking about you with his friends the other day."

"Edgar?" Hermione asked, brow furrowing. "I don't think I've ever met anyone called Edgar."

"Everyone just calls him Bones," Lily supplied helpfully. "He's Amelia's brother, same grade, in Ravenclaw."

"He's pretty good looking too, maybe because he looks like me," Amelia ran a hand through her blonde hair and grinned, dropping a wink when Hermione looked up. "He'll be at the Quidditch game, you know."

"Speaking of Quidditch," Hermione said loudly, steering the conversation from boys, "When are we going to go and get seats?"

* * *

Hermione, Lily, and Amelia picked their way through the stands to find a good place to sit with clear views of Hufflepuffs goals. Thankfully it wasn't a Slytherin game, so Hermione didn't mention the likelihood of being hit by rogue bludgers so close to the goals. Hufflepuff were a lot less aggressive than the other three houses – it would be a clean game.

"Sirius!" Amelia shouted, waving her arm. When he looked around, unable to see them, Hermione gave a short and sharp whistle, the sound startling everyone sitting close by. It got Sirius's attention though and he steered the small group of boys up to where they were sitting.

Remus slid in at the end next to Lily, smiling warmly as he got settled. Hermione was on Lily's other side, next to Amelia, who beckoned over a blonde boy that really did look a lot like her. She got him to sit in between the two, winking at Hermione over his shoulder. Hermione rolled her eyes but smiled anyway. Sirius sat next to Amelia and Peter next to him. There was five minutes left until game time, and Hermione could sense there was something wrong.

Remus and Sirius weren't talking, she realised. The two were usually so chummy it was ridiculous, but now they were radio silent.

"So, Hermione," Sirius called, "have you met Bones?"

"No, I don't think I have," Hermione smiled, offering him her hand to shake. It was flimsy compared to Regulus's that night in the hall. "I'm Hermione. It's lovely to meet you," she told him, pushing all thoughts of the death eater from her mind.

"I'm Edgar, but everyone calls me Bones," he grinned handsomely, and Hermione smiled back automatically. "It's nice to meet you, Hermione. Do you like quidditch?"

"Not particularly," she winced but kept a good natured smile on her face. "I'm not very sporty."

"She's a verifiable genius, that one," Sirius called, winking at Hermione when Bones wasn't looking. Was _everyone _trying to set her up? She'd only been here a couple days!

"Why weren't you sorted into Ravenclaw, then?" Bones teased, and Hermione just shrugged, a wry smile on her face.

"Hermione's also pretty kick arse," Amelia told her brother, reaching to elbow Hermione lightly in the ribs. "She talked through two fractured ribs and severe internal bleeding."

Hermione blushed. "Guys, stop –"

"Aww, you're blushing, Wilkins!" Sirius teased, reaching over to pinch her cheek. "I wonder what you'd to if someone gave you a smacking kiss. Possibly combust?"

"Someone," Hermione said through gritted teeth, "would likely be running to Madame Pomfrey because their mouth was glued shut."

Bones laughed, and Lily and Remus started to chuckle, whispering about something. Hermione made a note to ask what they were talking about later, since Remus was still smiling sadly, like there was something he wasn't telling anyone. Hermione figured that would come later, the trust and the exchange of secrets. Although, how was she mean to do that?

Would he come out and say, 'oh hey, Hermione, I'm a werewolf', and would she then turn around, grin at him like she usually did and say, 'oh, that's fine, I'm technically dead?' No, she didn't think so.

The game started and Hermione got caught up in the atmosphere, cheering with every point against Hufflepuff, which was a lot. The team worked well together, and the feeling in the stands was almost electric. Lily was hooting, screaming for her boyfriend to catch the snitch. He zoomed past, winking at Lily when he did. Hermione thought it was adorable, and smirked when she imagined Ron's reaction if Harry did that to Ginny.

"I thought you didn't like quidditch," Bones yelled next to her, and Hermione shot him a dazzling smile as Gryffindor intercepted and scored another goal.

"I never said that!" she yelled back after she stopped cheering. "I don't play or follow the sport, but it's hard not to get caught up in the moment!"

When James caught the snitch, everyone was out of their seats, stomping their feet and yelling. Sirius turned and grabbed Amelia, planting a bruising kiss on her lips. She didn't seem to mind, and Hermione thought she was the only one who noticed, but then she saw Remus jerk and still like he'd been slapped.

"Remus!" Hermione yelled, quickly trading places with a still cheering Lily. "Can you help me? I need to find a bathroom."

He nodded absently and she grabbed his arm, waving at their friends as she dragged him away, or really waving Bones and Peter, since Lily only had eyes for James and Amelia and Sirius were seriously snogging.

Hermione didn't stop until they were past the pitch and well hidden by the lake, unable to be seen or heard by any students passing back on their way to the castle. She sighed heavily, sitting down on the bank. Remus joined her, staring at the water blankly.

"How long?" she asked, and he turned the blank eyes on her. "Don't bullshit me, Lupin. I might not be Lily or even Amelia but I do care about you, and you'd have to be blind not to see it once you noticed."

"A couple years," he croaked, raking a hand through his hair. "I don't get it though – I'm not gay."

"I don't think the hardware Sirius has matters," Hermione replied smartly, patting Remus's hand comfortingly. "I think you love him because he's Sirius, not because of anything else."

"Yeah," he murmured, and Hermione's heart ached. "I love him. I've never admitted it to someone else before."

"Your secret's safe with me," Hermione promised softly, putting her arms around his neck. "And, if it's any consolation, I think you're great."

He smiled at her, leaning into the hug, long arms wrapping around her waist. They shifted so Hermione was kneeling in between his legs, and, before she could react, he kissed her. It was sweet, lovely really, but ultimately a little awkward all things considering. But Hermione let him anyway.

When Remus pulled away, he shook his head sadly. "I find you attractive, Hermione, but even when I kiss you I'm thinking of him."

"I know, honey," Hermione said, letting him lean against her. "Trust me, I know."

"I don't know how I'm meant to watch him with those girls, all of those different girls I _know _he feels nothing for, and Amelia, and…" Remus trailed off, tears filling his eyes. "He's scared so he's pretending like there's nothing between us, like I'm _imagining _things. I'm not, am I?"

Hermione stayed silent, running her hand through his hair in rhythmic, soothing motions.

"He kissed me once," Remus blurted, seemingly unable to stop talking now that he'd started. "Just once and I swear I saw stars. I thought, '_I'm not gay'_ as soon as he did, and I knew he was thinking the same thing. But I love him. How fucked up is that?"

"Liking what you like isn't a bad thing," Hermione said gently, "and loving who you love isn't ever anything to be ashamed of."

"I'm sorry, I'm dumping so much on you, it's not fair," he said, exhaling in a gust, hands still playing with her hair. "I'm sorry, Hermione."

"I'm just glad I can help a friend," Hermione grinned, kissing him on the forehead. "I've felt so out of step recently. This has helped me too, the comfort. I should be thanking you for giving me an out. I think Amelia was trying to set me up with Bones."

"She wasn't very subtle," he agreed, and they laughed, Hermione returning to her original seat next to him. She leaned against his body anyway, holding his hand and her head resting against his shoulder. "You're a good person, Hermione Wilkins."

"Just Hermione," she replied softly. "I'm just Hermione."

"You're not 'just' anything," he chucked, reaching over to ruffle her hair affectionately. "It feels like I've known you my whole life, it's hard to believe it's only been a few days. Tell me something about yourself, about your life before."

"I made my first two friends, Ron and Harry, when I out performed one in a simple charm. I was walking behind them and heard Ron say I was a know-it-all and probably snotty, I cant remember that part. I was upset so I went to the girls bathroom to cry," Hermione chuckled to herself as she ran through her memories. "Meanwhile, back in the dining room, a teacher runs in and yells , 'troll in the dungeon!', before promptly fainting. Turns out the troll wasn't in the dungeon but in the bathroom with me."

"Jeeze," Remus laughed, brows furrowing. "Tell me you don't get head injuries."

"No, I don't. I opened my stall door, saw the troll, and screamed. The two boys came in time to help save my life," Hermione grinned then, her smile radiant with love for her two best friends. "We were first years."

"That's a hell of a way to make friends," he laughed, and Hermione's grin widened at the smile on his face. "I'm sure you got up to plenty of mischief."

Hermione stood, brushing dirt from her pants, offering him a hand to help him up. "I'll tell you about the time I used polyjuice to accidentally turn myself into a cat if you come back to the common room with me," she bribed, and he laughed, taking her hand. "James will be excited to see you and talk _all _about his winning catch."

"Don't think you can get out of telling me more about your catty days, Hermione," Remus grinned, slinging his arm around her shoulders. "Did you get hairballs?"

Hermione swatted his arm but started to tell the story, pausing dramatically and causing him to laugh until his stomach ached and they had to stop walking for a moment or two so he could catch his breath.

They walked into the common room, cheeks still pink from laughing, smiles still on their faces. Hermione was supporting Remus while he laughed at the time she'd set the evil canaries on Ron, the boy who broke her heart. Hermione was careful to edit out anything that seemed suspicious, and made sure he knew everything took place at a small magical boarding school somewhere in the north of England.

Sirius frowned when he saw them stumble onto a couch, Hermione animatedly telling him the way he'd screamed and ran, something Sirius honestly couldn't decipher. They could have been talking about anything, but he had a feeling that it was a boy. Something dark ran through him, and Hermione looked up like she could sense it. She smiled at him, soft and warm, and he immediately felt guilty.

"Sirius is watching," Hermione whispered, and Remus nodded, sobering quickly. "He looks jealous."

Remus glowered, and Hermione moved away surreptitiously. The last thing she wanted was for him to try and kiss her in the middle of the common room. It would be a misguided attempt to rouse a reaction from Sirius, one Hermione felt wouldn't end well for anyone involved.

"I'm going to the library after I grab some books," Hermione said softly, smiling encouragingly. "You're welcome to come if you need an out, but I think you should talk to him."

When Hermione left the common room, Sirius was still sitting, staring sadly at Remus, while Remus sat staring at the fire, waiting for him to make a move, the sounds of the celebration all around them. Hermione wondered how many more evenings would pass in the same way. She ducked out, walking away, crossing her fingers that things worked out the way they should.


	5. Chapter 5

And she'll wake up in a cold sweat on the floor,

Next to a family portrait drawn when you were four,

And beside a jar of two cent coins that are no good no more,

She'll lay it aside.

- _Blood, _The Middle East

Hermione walked down the corridors after another illuminating afternoon of studying. She was being sarcastic even in her thoughts, unfortunately. That's what nights of fruitless, useless information was giving her. There was _nothing _about the veil or instances where it would send people back in time. Either she had to go to Dumbledore or find a better library. Short of going to Knockturn Alley, Hermione was out of ideas.

She was so deep in thought she didn't hear the heavy steps behind her until she was yanked back by her ponytail, her attacker lifting her up by her hair and shoving her, face first, into the stone wall. Hermione stilled, trying to tell herself to breathe. If she took her wand from her thigh holster, she was likely to get it taken or snapped. No, she just had to calm down.

Her attacker flipped her over, the movement making her head spin, pain radiating from where her cheek scraped against the wall. Avery and Rosier were there, holding an arm each, and Hermione tried her best to look confused, which wasn't hard. They weren't using magic but the pain was making her brain foggy. She hoped she got enough adrenaline to move around that.

"We know you did something to us," Rosier grunted, "and we want to know what."

As punctuation, he slammed his fist into her gut, causing Hermione to convulse. There was something very different from being hit with what felt like a sledgehammer rather than a normal garden variety hammer. That was the difference between Rosier's punch and Bellatrix's. Both were painful, but at least Bellatrix's pain was localised. When Rosier hit her, the pain radiated through her bones.

Avery sneered and ran a hand from the back of her knee, up to the inside of her thigh. He hovered at the hem of her skirt before palming the skin, two inches away from her crotch. Hermione screamed, the sound horrible and grating, startling both boys. Avery removed his hand and smashed his fist against her jaw, almost knocking her out. All Hermione could think was that she was glad he wasn't touching her.

"Get off me," she growled through gritted teeth, "before I tear you to pieces, you rapist scumbags!"

"Hear that? She's a fan of our work, Avery," Rosier grinned, baring all of his teeth in that gruesome twist of a smile. "Maybe we should give her a first hand demonstration."

Hermione struggled violently, managing to tear her left arm free, elbow Avery in the nose and lift her leg to kick Rosier right in the balls. He crumpled to the floor instantly. She turned and jerked her right hand free, turning to catch Avery directly in the jaw, sending him falling to the floor, unconscious. Hermione jumped around a moment, cradling her aching fist and bloody knuckles, before _stupefying _them both.

She stared at the two bodies around her. It was amazing what survival instincts, adrenaline, and all consuming rage could do. She thanked every lucky star she had her punches had connected.

Hermione conjured a bandage around her knuckles, swore lightly, and, as tears began to form in her eyes, began to get her revenge.

* * *

James had his arm around Lily's shoulder as the group walked down to dinner. Remus and Peter were walking next to them, Sirius and Amelia walking slightly behind. Lily sighed and leaned her head against his shoulder.

"Hey, Evans, what's up?" he asked softly, and Lily shook her head. "Has anyone seen Hermione today?"

"She told me she went to the library," Remus said, frowning. "But she did say she'd meet us at dinner."

They rounded the corner to the Great Hall and saw the small crowd around the front doors. The group exchanged glances and pushed through the gossiping students, walking over to the Gryffindor table where Hermione sat alone, her face hidden by her hair. Lily gasped and pointed toward the Slytherin table, the source of all the gossip.

On two huge platters, Rosier and Avery were stripped down to their underwear, covered in boils from a particularly nasty _furnunculus _curse, and hog tied like cooked pigs. There were apples in their mouths and, in huge, glowing red letters, the words 'rapist pigs' were visible on their foreheads. Lily broke away from James, sprinting the distance to Hermione and catching the girl in a surprise hug.

Hermione smiled, letting Lily hug her back. Remus blanched, exchanging a glance with James. James shook his head, letting him know that Lily hadn't been hurt, but frowned at the two. From what Lily had told him, the two shouldn't have remembered anything about that night. But if Hermione had obliviated them, they would have seen her walking away, wouldn't they? His heart sunk as they trooped toward the table.

Lily was wiping tears from her eyes, still holding Hermione's hand. Hermione was smiling, but James stifled a gasp when he saw her face. There were dark purple bruises on her jaw, black finger prints on her throat where she'd been gripped, and a horrible red gash on her cheekbone where the skin looked like a grater had been taken to it. When he sat down next to Lily, he caught a glimpse of a yellowing hand print on her thigh.

He looked over at Avery and Rosier, who were awake and fighting their bonds. Everyone pointed and talked, but no one moved to help them. Even their friends, Snape's gang, ignored them, sitting down and piling their plates with food, eating like there was nothing unusual about the set up. The teachers ignored them too, and if he wasn't mistaken, McGonagall was even smiling.

"Jesus," Remus said when he sat down, eyes widening as he saw Hermione's purpling face. "Did they…?"

"No," Hermione shook her head before smiling ruefully. "Not for lack of trying, though."

Remus sighed heavily and Amelia swore loudly, sitting down on the bench next to him. Sirius followed, wincing when he saw Hermione's face. "You should have called us somehow, we would have dealt with them."

"Now the whole school knows what they are," Hermione muttered bitterly, anger flaring behind her eyes. "And it should serve them bloody right."

Peter was the one who eventually got dinner back on track, talking about the accident they'd had in Herbology hours before with the mandrakes. Everyone laughed and lightened up, Hermione looking incredibly relaxed and, every time she looked over to the Slytherin table, incredibly smug.

They were the last to leave, Hermione carried to the hospital wing by Sirius and Remus, and no one, not even the teachers, had attempted to untie or help Rosier or Avery. James smiled and Lily grinned, walking out arm in arm. Amelia hung back, casting a spell that gave them both pigs tails before she left, a slight spring in her step once she had.

* * *

Madame Pomfrey's eyes almost fell out of her head when she saw Hermione come in, held in the arms of Sirius Black. The girl was half awake, a proud smile on her face. He laid her down on one of the beds, and Madame Pomfrey hissed, examining the wounds on her face.

"You boys better take a seat," she sighed heavily, pushing up Hermione's school skirt and revealing the hand print. Both boys stiffened, and Sirius began to turn red with anger. "I'll go and get some potions for this."

"Those fucking arseholes," Sirius muttered angrily, glaring at the hand print on Hermione's thigh. "I'll kill them."

"No, you wont," Hermione said sleepily, smiling at them. "They got what they deserved. Dumbledore will take necessary disciplinary action. They'll likely have their wands placed under restriction, and all the houses will be after them."

"I'll still kill them," Sirius promised, looking as if he might. Hermione smiled sadly, reaching over to pat his forearm gently. "I'm sorry, Hermione."

"It's not like you told them I'd be there," she whispered sleepily, eyes falling shut. "Don't let me fall asleep until Madame Pomfrey gets back."

"We wont, Hermione," Remus smiled, reaching over to hold her hand, which she squeezed gratefully. "We wont leave you either, I promise."

Hermione smiled as Madame Pomfrey propped her up to drink the foul potions, applying pastes and salves to her bruises and scrapes, sighing heavily when Hermione slipped into a dreamless sleep.

"She could have healed those scrapes herself," Madame Pomfrey said softly, undoing the ponytail Hermione's hair was in. "Hermione's strong but… this is disgusting. You two watch her, I'm going to talk with Dumbledore."

She left them, Hermione's soft breath the only noise in the hospital wing. Sirius looked over at Remus, who looked angry enough to break something. Sirius frowned – that was rare. Usually Remus was relaxed unless it was time for Moony to come out.

"Remus, what's wrong?" he asked softly, prepared for his friends anger and lashing out. What he wasn't prepared for was the devastated look that crossed his face.

"She's so bloody kind," he said softly, shaking his head. "She saw I was upset and got me out before I could do something or people could notice. She helped and cared and didn't ask, she just comforted, and expected nothing in return. Then, when we had to go back, she told me embarrassingly funny stories until I was smiling again. She's so _good_ yet this happens."

"When were you upset?" Sirius asked, frowning. Remus turned to him, a self depreciating smile on his face.

"When you snogged Amelia at the Quidditch Game," he said softly.

"Oh," was all Sirius could manage. "I didn't –"

"What?" Remus scoffed. "You didn't know I'd be upset if you did? You _kissed _me, Sirius. You did that. Now I'm stuck feeling all this while you traipse about like nothing happened!"

"You think I don't think about it every fucking second of every bloody day?" Sirius shouted, arms gesturing. "You're –"

"I'm what, Sirius?" Remus challenged, rubbing his eyes tiredly, all the fight draining out of him.

Sirius reached down and kissed him, putting too much force behind it. He let go abruptly, and they stared at each other, breathing heavily. They stared at each other a moment before their lips met again, Remus reaching up and pulling Sirius close. Suddenly, they heard a giggle.

Breaking apart, they saw Hermione, her eyes half open, a wide smile on her face. "If this happens every time I'm injured, I need to do this more often," she said, giggling.

"Two times in three weeks is more than enough," Remus mock scolded, and Hermione stopped giggling.

"Have I really been here three weeks?" she asked, tears welling in her eyes. "And I've found nothing? Oh, God."

"Shit, she's tripping," Sirius chuckled, raking a hand through his hair, falling back into the seat next to Remus. "But I have to agree with her. We have to do that more often."

"I think we can agree we shouldn't kiss around people tripping on painkillers," Remus nudged him with his elbow, and Hermione stifled a laugh, a pleased smile still on her face. "Stop looking so smug."

Hermione nodded and fell back to a peaceful sleep.

* * *

The next morning, Hermione woke up to see Remus with his head on Sirius's shoulder, both of them sleeping softly, arms and legs touching. The two looked obviously intimate, and Madame Pomfrey was smiling softly. Hermione forced herself to sit up and grabbed her clothes, ducking into the shower room down the hall, and drawing the curtains. She got back in her uniform, braided her hair, and walked back to gently wake up the two sleeping beauties.

"Remus, Sirius, take a shower, we're going to class," she crooned, and they groaned. "Come on, we have Potions and that means polyjuice. Get up!"

"Can't you do it for me?" Sirius groaned, rubbing his eyes, sighing.

"No, I'm partnered with your brother, remember?" she replied smartly and Sirius groaned again, throwing himself dramatically on her hospital bed. "Honestly you two. You're acting like it's a full bloody moon."

Both boys eyes widened as they looked up at her. Hermione cursed under her breath but turned on heel and walked away like she hadn't said anything unusual. Why hadn't she blown it off as a turn of phrase? Another way of saying 'full moon fever'? Because she panicked, and that was something Hermione Granger didn't do.

Hermione Wilkins, on the other hand, was a verifiable basket case.

She walked into the potions class with five minutes to spare, throwing her bag down and mumbling under her breath. Tucking a loose curl behind her ear, Hermione turned to her partner, glowering slightly.

"Well, Wilkins, you look like you're in a horrible mood," Regulus laughed and Hermione just sneered. "We're ahead of everyone, mainly because I've already completed all the prep for the potion."

"What do you want, a medal? Or are you going for sainthood?" Hermione asked, sarcasm practically dripping from her words.

"Are you turning into a mountain troll?" he countered, and Hermione glared for a moment more before she grinned widely. "I don't think I've ever met a girl that likes being called a troll."

"It's just a funny memory," Hermione dismissed, adding the boomslang skin to the cauldron.

Regulus added the crushed bicorn horn before turning the heat on high, waiting the required twenty seconds before stopping it. Hermione waved her wand over the potion and they set it to brew for the next twenty four hours.

"I cant believe he made us wait three weeks to do that," Regulus complained, turning back to his own work.

Hermione smirked, pulling out a piece of parchment and scribbling down possible ideas to create a spell powerful enough to return her to her own time. It would have to encompass all of life and death, so she'd best be getting creative with the ingredient sourcing.

"Why on _earth _would you need Thestral Hair?" Regulus asked, mercifully in a soft voice, and Hermione gave him a withering look. "I mean, I don't understand why you'd need so many classified, not to mention hard to get ingredients."

"What makes you think I'm making something?" Hermione questioned, one eyebrow arching elegantly. "I'm just listing ingredients I don't know much about."

"Thestrals are omens of evil," Regulus recited, and Hermione snorted. "Did you just snort?"

"Not lady like enough for you?" Hermione asked, narrowing her eyes.

"Asphodel? It sounds like you're making a poison," Regulus narrowed his eyes back at her, ignoring his own work in favour for hers. Hermione sighed, continuing to write her list. "Valerian fits poison too. Okay, so maybe the unicorn tail hair doesn't fit, but I don't… oh."

Hermione finished writing her last ingredient, smiling triumphantly at Regulus, who was staring at the list with a confused expression. She wondered how she would be able to get all the ingredients, but then there was the wonderful and completely free Forbidden Forest just a hop, skip, and jump away.

"Why do you need pixie dust?" Regulus asked incredulously, and Hermione merely smiled knowingly, tapping the side of her nose. He snored before leaning closer. Hermione leant back. "What happened to your face?"

"Nothing," Hermione replied automatically. Dumbledore had cleared the issue with the Marauders, maintaining that no one was meant to know about the attack on Hermione. They'd agreed when she'd agreed, or so Madame Pomfrey told her. She could barely remember anything from yesterday – other than Sirius and Remus kissing. That was pretty unforgettable.

The bell rang loudly, and Hermione sent Regulus a sweet smile. "See you tomorrow to finish this twice damned potion," Hermione waved, ignoring whatever he was about to say and catching up to Lily as she left.

"What's wrong?" Hermione asked instantly, pulling Lily aside and casting a silencing spell. "You look like you're about to cry."

"That slimy, evil git!" Lily sobbed, and Hermione dragged her into the first bathroom, strongly warding the doors behind her. "He had the nerve!"

"Who are we talking about?" Hermione asked gently, and Lily rubbed at her eyes angrily. "What did he do?"

"Snape, Severus Snape," Lily muttered, beginning to pace the bathroom. "He told me he was sorry, he didn't tell Rosier and Avery to try anything, that he didn't mean it."

"That's strange, but its not all that bad, is it?" Hermione smiled encouragingly.

"It's horrible!" Lily raged, throwing her hands in the air. "He's a disgusting, slimy prick, and he was my _best _friend!"

Hermione held Lily while she cried and sobbed angrily, alternating between self-righteous anger and being genuinely upset. It read a lot like some of the arguments she used to have with Ron. They walked out of the bathroom ten minutes later, Lily looking every inch her perfect self and Hermione feeling surprisingly carefree.

They strolled down the corridor, talking of Quidditch and boys, all the while Hermione decided to move her trip into the Forbidden Forest to after school the next day.


	6. Chapter 6

Take me outside, sit in the green garden,

Nobody out there, but it's okay now,

Bathe in the Sunlight, don't mind if rain falls,

Take me outside in the green garden.

- _Green Garden_, Laura Mvula

Hermione was the first person in Potions after lunch, her bag packed with all the test tubes, the bottles, and everything else that she needed to go ingredient hunting in the Forbidden Forest after class was over. She was so eager, she was almost jumping out of her seat.

Regulus came in, eyebrows raised when he saw her squirming in her seat. "You're excited," he commented, sliding into the seat next to her. Hermione narrowed her eyes at him in a mock glare. "From that look, I'd say you were as surly as usual."

"Smart boy," Hermione quipped, dropping a scoop of lacewings into the cauldron. She stirred three times, anti-clockwise, and smiled. "The potions done – all that's left is the pieces of the person you'd like to become."

"I'm not sure I want to become anyone," Regulus murmured, staring at the potion. "But we need to test it."

"Did you know that good-hearted people cause the polyjuice potion to change to a more attractive colour and taste?" Hermione told him idly, plucking a hair from her head, removing a vial of the potion, dropping it in. The potion immediately turned silvery and gave off a strong smell of lavender.

"You look positively boring," he replied with a saccharine smile, and Hermione rolled her eyes.

"I'll have to change your mind, wont I?" she grinned, whistling to Sirius, who walked over, completely ignoring his brother. "Sirius, could you drink this for me? We need to check if it's working."

"Why would I do that?" he asked, brow furrowing. "You could have put anyone's hair in there."

Hermione smiled widely as Remus walked up to the table, obviously wondering what was going on.

"I dare you," Hermione declared loudly, and Sirius's eyes narrowed competitively. He picked up the vial and downed it in one go. He belched and Hermione hi-fived Regulus, who barely had his hand up in time.

Sirius shrunk rapidly, growing breasts and hips, his pants becoming baggy and shirt way too loose. His hair grew out long and blonde, into the wavy curls she had when she used frizz free products. His eyes turned large and brown like he'd dropped dye in them.

"Oh shit!" Sirius exclaimed, his voice sounding just like Hermione's. "You turned me into a girl! Hermione, you taste like lavender and sunshine. That's just depressing."

Hermione quickly cast a sticking spell on all the clothing and underwear. "You also officially cant sneak a peak," Hermione winked and Sirius groaned dramatically. "Don't think I don't know you after almost a month, Sirius Black."

"I wish I wasn't so predictable," Sirius cried, gripping his breasts dramatically. Hermione narrowed her eyes at him and he giggled girlishly. "Are skirts always so breezy?"

"Well, Miss Wilkins, Mister Black, you potion is impeccable. He changed faultlessly!" Slughorn grinned and Hermione took a step back, nodding at Regulus. "Ah, Miss Wilkins, so eager to pass on the accolades to Mister Black."

Regulus turned and looked at her, eyes widening when he realised her mutiny. She smiled, quickly darting behind Sirius-as-Hermione, who winked seductively. She slapped him on the arm, and he shrugged, scratching his head.

"How do you girls stand these bra things?" he complained loudly. "They're so restrictive!"

"I am so glad I chose to wear a singlet and stockings today," Hermione sighed heavily, and Sirius mimicked the noise. "I really regret testing that on him."

"Soak it up, baby," Sirius cried, shaking his hips, "soak it up!"

"That's my body!" Hermione cried, smashing him over the head. "You respect it!"

"You've never looked better, Padfoot!" James yelled and Amelia hooted. Sirius-as-Hermione turned and dropped him a wink, gyrating suggestively. Hermione hit him again, harder this time.

He turned around and planted one right on her lips, a smacking kiss that rocked her onto her heels. Sirius crinkled his nose and struck a pose, shaking his butt suggestively as he rocked around the classroom in her body. Hermione walked up, tapped him on the shoulder, and when he turned, she cold cocked him straight on the jaw.

It was an amazing thing, watching herself fall in on herself like a ragdoll. Hermione made a small 'hmph' noise and flounced away, muttering under her breath about the importance of a grade. Remus started to laugh, almost hysterically, grabbing Sirius-as-Hermione's body and propping him along a bench at the back of the room. No one moved to Rennervate him, instead just working on their potions, still laughing.

* * *

Class was over for the day and Sirius had turned back into his normal self, upset he didn't have breasts to fondle in his free time. Hermione swotted at him again for that. It took her less than ten minutes to ditch her friends and sneak behind the Quidditch Pitch into the Forbidden Forest.

She walked through the undergrowth, humming under her breath as she ran through her list. The thestral hair wouldn't be too bad, especially since Hagrid was already keeping a domesticated breed in the area.

The Asphodel and Valerian were fresh from Slughorn's stores, stolen yesterday. The man wouldn't miss them. The unicorn tail hair? She was glad she was still a virgin, and hopefully she'd find one. If the centaurs would cooperate with her, if only to right the balance, that would help. Now, though, she was going for the pixie dust.

Back when they'd had to serve detentions with Hagrid, he'd told her about a small pixie nest close to a pond somewhere in the forest. Hermione knew of three ponds, and was well on her way to the first. It was cold; her breath misting the air as she walked, still humming under her breath.

When she stepped into the clearing housing the first pond, there weren't any pixies, but there was a centaur. He looked up and rose from where he was resting, stretching majestically. The first time Hermione had seen a centaur, she'd stared. Now, she was careful to avert her eyes in a submissive gesture. It was hard – the centaurs were built with beautiful lines, the face and torso of a classical sculpture.

"What are you?" he asked, and Hermione raised her eyes to meet his. "Who are you?"

"I'm a human witch named Hermione Wilkins," Hermione recited calmly, and straightened properly.

"You are not," the centaur said, narrowing his eyes. "Tell me the truth, girl, or I will kill you."

Hermione stared at him, unflinching. "My name is Hermione Granger, and I'm a human witch."

"That is not the whole truth!" he walked forward, hooves beating the ground angrily. "You cannot lie, girl, or I will kill you."

"I've had a great many people threaten me in the same way and only one of them succeeded," Hermione said, her voice infused with a calm she didn't feel. "I was pushed through the veil, and I came to this time."

"You are the anomaly in the star pattern," he breathed, stopping his movements immediately. He grew still, staring at her. "You are the one that could break the star patterns and knit them back together. You are from the future."

Hermione inclined her chin, adopting the same proud mannerisms as the centaur. "I'm trespassing in the Forest to collect ingredients I'll need to make a potion or device to get me home."

"You have the brain for it," the centaur nodded. "I will help you, if you need. You must not destroy the pattern."

"I don't plan to," Hermione promised, and he nodded again. "I need pixie dust, unicorn tail hair, and thestral mane hair, for now. I wont collect ingredients that would hurt others."

"The Forest will give you what you want," the centaur told her. "You are organic, more so than the others. You are written in the stars and the pattern runs through your veins. You are a star-breaker, the first in years. It is not an honour, girl. You are doomed to a life of pain."

"You can call me Hermione when you're giving me bad news," she said tiredly, and the centaur smiled.

"You can call me Ronan, girl, if we are to work together," he said holding out his hand. She took it and they shook, Hermione bowing her head slightly as she did. "This is not your first meeting with a centaur. I am impressed."

"Manners, especially when dealing with centaurs, are important," Hermione smiled, looking around the Forest in confusion. "Why are the creatures ignoring me? It's like I don't register on their radar. I came with apples in case I ran into a hungry thestral."

"You'll see, girl, that the thestrals will flock to you like you're a flame and they are moths. Your death yet your spark of life creates an impossible pattern, one that will attract certain beings to you."

"You keep saying that my 'pattern' is impossible. What _is _a pattern?"

"I can see you are not one for divination," he smirked and Hermione continued to match his pace, which was relatively easy considering the height differences. "Patterns are like constellations. We find portents within the stars. You are like a living portent - an omen, a sign - that we cant read. It's not just your magic, but the magic of life, of death, written in your magical signature. That's why the animals ignore and are attracted to you at the same time. You blend in with everything around us."

"Is that a good or bad thing?" Hermione asked, filing the information away for later.

"You will be saving lives but you could also destroy them," Ronan sighed and Hermione winced. "You can take and give, but I cannot tell you what you will choose, what you will decide."

"That makes this whole thing that much less stressful, doesn't it?" Hermione laughed derisively. "Not only could I destroy the fabric of time and all the portents for the future, I can kill someone or keep someone alive? What the hell kind of choice is that?"

"It's never been a choice," he said sadly. "Your portents would have shown it to those who would listen. I doubt, though, that anyone but Firenze would look at them, and even then he would be likely to stay silent. We respect the pattern, girl, more than a human's right for choice."

"I don't know what I could say to you that wouldn't sound overly proud or isn't completely undiplomatic," she admitted. "But it's good news. That means if my pattern changes, you'll tell me, wont you?"

"Yes, I will prevent a break in your star pattern," Ronan agreed, and stopped walking. "Here is the next of pixies. They will not approach me, but they will give you what you want, if you have something to give them."

Hermione nodded and walked across the clearing, kneeling in front of the hollowed out knot in the face of a tree. She whistled softly, and the pixies stuck their heads out, bulbous eyes studying her curiously. She held out one finger and a pixie from the back stepped onto it , looking up at her, making a curious chattering noise.

"I want to make a trade," Hermione told it, voice soft. "I will trade you an object for your pixie dust."

The pixie chattered again before nodding. Hermione fished a necklace with a cut glass orb attached. Hermione reached into the tree knot and hung it on a outstretched knot inside the tree, the light catching the glass and sending colourful arcs along the wood, illuminating the inside of the knot. The pixies all started to chatter excitedly, jumping and running over the colour, trying to catch the lines and dancing under the light.

The head pixie jumped from her finger and ran into the tree, returning with a bag of pixie dust, shoving it into her hands and chattering excitedly, jumping around. Behind her, Ronan snorted, the closest to a laugh she'd heard from the centaur.

"That was clever," he said, and Hermione smiled as she tucked her pixie dust into a side pocket of her bag, carefully wrapping it and securing it magically. "The glass will make them your friend. If you ever need anything from them, the glass replenishes the favour over time as the light dances."

"I know," Hermione told him, dusting the leaves and mulch from her knees. "Where to next?"

"Unicorns are more active on full moons, which happens to be tonight, so we will find your thestrals before going after the unicorn," Ronan told her, and Hermione's eyebrows raised. "Werewolves will like you too, girl, in the way that thestrals do. You may have already noticed this."

"Are you talking about Lupin?" Hermione asked, frowning. Ronan nodded. "Are you kidding me? Now that I've fallen through the veil, I'm not food for him?"

"You're already dead," Ronan pointed out, and Hermione sighed heavily. "You're no longer prey. In fact, they may identify you as a fellow predator."

"Great," Hermione muttered, "just great."

"It is," Ronan agreed without a trace of sarcasm or irony. "You are now safe to roam the Forest. I would not advise going around without changing your disguise, or without a guide, however."

"My disguise?" she asked, brows furrowing. "I don't understand."

"Your altered hair and lightened eyes," Ronan pointed. "You should make yourself another disguise for these missions, one that doesn't just change how you look, but your movements."

"A grace charm?" Hermione asked, and Ronan nodded. She cast one before running her hands through her hair, creating a glamour over the dyed hair. It became it's normal frizzy self, but instead of brown it became a deep black, the curls jumping and rioting around her face.

"Can you cast a glamour on your clothes?" Ronan asked and Hermione shook her head. "I can charm them for you, if you'd like."

"All this changing my appearance is going to give me an identity issue soon," Hermione grumbled, hand disappearing in her bag, then her arm up to her shoulder. Ronan's eyebrow raised and Hermione ignored him, pulling out a stalwart pair of woollen black robes that looked like a muggle coat and dress. She changed while he looked away, folding away her uniform and her school cloak. Stepping into boots, Hermione almost sighed at the relief the extra support provided for her already aching feet.

"You aren't too recognisable," Ronan nodded, staring down at her. "As for your identity, your star pattern hasn't changed."

Hermione laughed and grinned up at him. "Are you always so literal?"

"Are you always so human?" he countered primly, and Hermione shook her head, the two moving in silence. The grace charm was a definite help – she wasn't stumbling on upturned roots and branches every five minutes. "It is almost sunset. The thestrals are in that clearing. I shall wait here."

Hermione huffed and walked away, muttering under her breath about centaurs. Behind her, Ronan laughed, genuinely, for the first time. It made her stop complaining and stare back incredulously. She realised why he was laughing when a baby thestral rushed the clearing and knocked her to the ground, whinnying and stomping around her, looking terribly excited to see her.

Hermione glared at Ronan, who was still laughing, and sat up, pulling an apple from her bag, offering it to the baby thestral, who bit into it excitedly, dragonish face pushing up against hers as thanks. Hermione smiled, her surprise showing. The thestrals were… comforting, for lack of a better word. A sense of peace washed over her, and Hermione wondered if it was because she'd died.

Other thestrals walked over, sniffing at her curiously before butting their muzzles against her like horses did. It was hard to imagine the thestrals as horses, because of their skeletal bodies and great leathery wings, but Hermione tried her best to act naturally.

She pulled another apple from her bag and cut it in half with a simple severing charm, feeding the halves to two other thestrals. She did the same for the four others, watching as they continued dance around her, acting as if she were a part of their herd. Smiling, Hermione held out both her hands and reached for the mane of one of the thestrals. It pushed the hair so it fell in her hand, whinnying and pushing her, as if it were giving her permission.

Hermione ran her fingers through the mane, collecting the hair that came loose by itself, the thestral made a strange noise, like it was purring, and Hermione heard Ronan make a noise of approval somewhere behind her. The sun was setting and the thestrals were leaving, the baby and its mother waiting until Hermione had put the hair away to gently brush up against her as a goodbye, disappearing into the forest.

For a moment, Hermione was speechless.

"That was the most comforting thing I've ever experienced," Hermione said, voice hoarse. "It was so _peaceful_."

"Thestrals are kind creatures, especially ones to have been near death," Ronan explained gently. "They would feel a fraction of the emotion you just did, as you have met death and walked away."

Hermione looked up, eyes watering. She nodded, watching as the forest plunged into darkness as if someone had spilled ink across the sky. The moon was high and Hermione could hear someone howling. A soft expression crossed her face as she thought of the pain her friend would be in. At least he had wolfsbane, she thought, shaking it from her thoughts.

"Unicorn?" Hermione asked, and Ronan nodded, walking off. Hermione waited a second, putting another apple down in the middle of the clearing, before following him.

"We will be travelling much deeper into the forest now," Ronan said and Hermione bit back a sigh. "I will have to leave you if the wolf comes, so you must take this."

He pressed a compass into her hands, and Hermione's eyes widened. "This is a centaur compass," she breathed, running her fingers over the delicate silver work. "I don't know what to say."

"It will lead you true, no matter what, Hermione," he told her, and she smiled at him, surprised at how musical he made her name sound. "It's magic is different to your own. If ever you're lost, you merely need to look at the dial and it will take you to where you need to be."

"How will I know when I get there?" Hermione asked, looping the chain around her neck. It shivered with magic, locking to her skin so she couldn't lose it.

"You'll know," Ronan assured her. "And you know what that compass means."

"Ronan, I am formally in your debt," she said suddenly, and he looked down at her, amused. "I know you would never have expected me to honour the custom, but I cant tell you how much it means to me to have such a magical artefact around my neck. I… thank you."

Ronan didn't say anything as they walked on, twigs and branches rustling under their feet, pushed aside by their arms. Hermione felt the darkness of the forest encroach on her, igniting fear and panic. She pushed them aside, focusing on the breathing of the centaur next to her and the sound of her own slow heartbeat in her ears.

"There's the unicorn," Ronan said, nodding to close to a river where it was resting. "I certainly hope we haven't come all this way to find you are incapable of touching it."

Hermione's eyes narrowed but she stopped her snide reply. Taking a deep breath, she walked up to the creature. It stared up at her with deeply intelligent eyes, unnerving her slightly. It knew why she'd come, and it was willing, that much she could sense. Hermione walked up and knelt in front of it, ignoring Ronan's warnings. When the unicorn touched its horn to her forehead, she knew why.

Hermione remembered.

She remembered the time at the Yule Ball, when she'd walked down the stairs and found everyone staring at her, surprised that she could turn out so lovely. She remembered seeing the shock on Harry's face and the hanging jaw on Ron. Even Malfoy had been staring. Viktor had leant over and whispered in her ear, telling her she was beautiful. She'd had a blush the rest of the night.

There was a night, nondescript really, in Grimmauld Place before the Horcrux Hunt. She, Harry, and Ron were in the kitchen, making tea and making fun of each other, reminiscing about trolls and cats, about Buckbeak and escapees, when Remus had walked in. Hermione had smiled at him and given him a cup of tea, and he said, 'thank you, Hermione,' like it meant a lot more than she knew. Now, it probably did.

She was dancing with Harry in the tent, smiling and spinning, the two laughing as he dipped her and twirled, both of them losing themselves for a minute, finding a moment of happiness and peace in the middle of a war.

Hermione pulled away, tears running down her face. The unicorn looked at her sadly before turning and letting her take the tail hair. Hermione did, tucking them away and standing, walking back to Ronan on shaky feet. She sighed heavily and he just looked at her.

They walked away in silence.


End file.
